


The Sun Steals Your Wings, Icarus

by nanashiii



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Niki | Nihachu, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Niki | Nihachu and Ranboo are Siblings, Other, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Wilbur Soot, Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit Friendship, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Video Game Mechanics, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot-centric, but sally x wilbur?? yes, i dont proofread, in which wilbur and tommy run away, my plans for this are so random, niki and ranboo as siblings is so pog, niki is so pog, no beta we die like wilbur soot, no romantic relationships between creators, phil sucks at parenting, so much canon divergence guys, sometimes, we don't stan character!dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29544333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanashiii/pseuds/nanashiii
Summary: There's no reason to stay trapped in walls that don't love you, and so they ran.-In which eight-year-old Tommy and sixteen-year-old Wilbur only have each other, and run from the place that has always been home. No one in this world is quite okay- in fact, they're all rather a bunch of broken people. But when broken people come together, they can offer out their shattered pieces and slowly glue themselves into something whole....As if a world this cruel would ever allow for such healing.The chords are dissonant. The melody is strange. The symphony has never been his to play.(updates will likely be inconsistent cause my motivation is like that, you know?)(obviously, this is based off the in roleplay characters and not the actual ccs!)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Niki | Nihachu & Ranboo, Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Technoblade, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Sally, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	1. Icarus, Theseus, And The Cardboard Box

**Author's Note:**

> content warning: parental neglect and (implied) abuse, drug mention
> 
> featuring wilbur, tommy, and the boy in the box

A haunting melody drifts into the air with a voice that's harmonious in nature. It's a hug that wraps around you and draws you into the arms of someone who's always been your home. Home away from a home that you don't have. Warmth comes easily. It washes over you in its entirety, and it's nice.

It really is nice, albeit unfamiliar, to be content.

A boy who's only eight sat by his brother who's eight years older, tucked away into the warmth of words and a lightly strummed guitar. Warmth isn't something they know very well, but he finds that it's pleasant. The two of them sit before a fire until the night reduces it to dying embers and tendrils of smoke, until one's fingers are aching and the other is close to being swallowed by the lure of sleep.

"Toms, you look like you're going to fall over."

"Am not!" Tommy fired back immediately, snapping out of his sluggish state and glaring daggers at his brother. "Shut up, Wil, you don't know anything."

An amused smile came to play across Wilbur's lips, a dance of an upward quirk that was ever so slight. "Oh yeah? Keep telling yourself that, child."

His choice of words on stirred the fire, igniting and kindling a fiercer burn. The blonde puffed out his chest and gave Wilbur the dirtiest look that he could muster. "I'm a big man!" he declared. "Bigger than you, prick." It was a miracle that he hadn't called him something worse, with the extensive library of swears he'd picked up from his brothers and father over the years.

Wilbur rolled his eyes, the accompanying shake of his head being more of amusement than exasperation. "Okay, then, _big man,_ go to sleep." It took a while of weak argumentation on Tommy's part and increasingly less patient convincing on Wilbur's, but the blonde caved in after far too many yawns and dangerous moments of nearly zoning out. He retreated into their already set up tent, making sure to be as noisy as possible whilst slipping into his sleeping bag. 

He was snoring shortly after.

Assured that Tommy was asleep and would stay that way (being the heavy sleeper that he was), Wilbur put out the remnants of the fire and entered the sleeping bag of his own. He set his guitar at the inner edge of the tent. The tent was one he'd stolen from home before running away, just as much not truly theirs as most of his and Tommy's belongings were. The guitar was one of few exceptions- a treasured possession that Wilbur had bought with his own hard-earned money at the age of thirteen.

Tommy had only been five at the time, but he'd nonetheless loved hearing the moments of stolen time in which Wilbur would learn to play and write songs of his own. Phil had never been too fond of the sound, and so Wilbur had always waited for him to be out of the house in order to prevent the chance of upsetting him.

Techno had never minded the sound. In fact, once upon a time that no longer existed, Wilbur might've dared to say that his twin enjoyed it.

There was a night that Wilbur remembered clearly, one that Tommy brought up often whenever the day's mood was less than satisfactory or the whispers of bitter nostalgia drew it from their minds. The chill of winter in their old home had always been harsh and unrelenting. They'd gathered by the fireplace, and Phil hadn't minded, for once, letting Wilbur play in the living room. Tommy had sung with him, voice loud but surprisingly not all that bad-sounding, and they'd eventually gotten Techno to join in. He had been incredibly awkward about it, sure, but it had been nice.

But Techno became too much like Phil, and Wilbur had been faced with the harsh reality that he no longer knew his twin. It had been one of many moments, many changing points and cruel twists of life, that had pushed him and Tommy to leave.

There's no reason to stay trapped in walls that don't love you, so they ran.

Wilbur laid on his back, letting the sounds of the moment surround him. Tommy's snoring had dwindled slightly, but the kid was still so goddamn loud. His breathing, at least, was steady and calm, so unlike anything the boy ever did in conscious thought. Crickets chirped and sang their forlorn song, the sound of distant mobs' footsteps a lonesome, occasional sound. The mobs couldn't hurt them here, in a tent too strong and well-protected by the slew of enchantments that Phil had long ago thrown onto it. 

That never stopped Wilbur from sleeping with a sword by his pillow.

That never stopped him from keeping armor for Tommy readily available.

He never wore armor, a promise sworn to peace and against measures he considered painfully unnecessary. Scars littered his body, constant reminders that violence was permanent. And so why should he encourage it? But he sure as hell wasn't going to begrudge his brother of the extra protection in a world that was never kind to those like them.

He loved his brother to death and back. Take the maximum amount of love that someone's heart can hold for another and multiply it by a thousand. He'd do anything for the godforsaken little gremlin child that was _still snoring,_ who was constantly followed by chaos and trouble no matter where he went.

Yes, Wilbur decided. Tommy deserved the world, and so Wilbur would make sure his was satisfactory.

* * *

"We'll sell them for double the price it took to make them," Wilbur explained, face lit by a crafty grin and eyes shining with excitement.

The two of them had managed to get their hands on a van. The vehicle had been surprisingly sturdy despite the doubts they'd both had at its chipped and broken outer appearance. Chests sat on the floor of the van, carefully placed and stocked with potions crafted by a meticulous hand.

"Why double?" complained a now-nine Tommy, tugging at the bandana that had sat around his neck for a consistent three weeks now. "Don't be a pussy, Big W, we can so do triple."

Wilbur just barely stifled a grin at how ridiculous the word 'pussy' sounded when coming from the boy's mouth. "It's the economy, Toms. We'd never be able to get anyone to buy anything if the prices were that high." He sighed as Tommy grumbled on about him being pathetic and 'the biggest loser wimp pussy ass of all servers ever'. Wilbur really was a bad influence when it came to swearing, eh? "Honestly, we're already pushing it at double."

"Fiine," huffed Tommy. "Who're we gonna sell to, Wil?"

He paused before answering, being not quite sure himself. "We'll check out the communities and people that are nearby, I guess. We'll figure something out when we come to it."

"Maybe we should sell drugs to Tub-bo," Tommy suggested, pronouncing the two syllables of this "Tubbo" person's name very slowly. "But if I give Tubbo drugs, he might try and give us bees in return... I don't want bees, Wil."

Wilbur glanced over at him, bemused. Tommy had been talking about someone named "Tubbo" constantly ever since they'd arrived in the area and stayed close to it for a while now. He was convinced that this was some imaginary friend Tommy had made up during one of the long walks that the kid would take. He'd done it before, when they'd still been with Phil and Techno- some guy he called "Henry", and a girl by the name of "Clementine".

This imaginary Tubbo, however, seemed to have a much more developed personality and interests than the other two had. Tubbo loved to bake and cook, and taking care of his bee farm, and climbing trees. Tommy loved to go on and on about how he and Tubbo would climb trees and claim branches as their seats, looking out at the world and occasionally throwing things at the mobs that would pass by. Tubbo was kind, and bright, and so clingy that Tommy was constantly irritated about it.

Wilbur made fun of him for this, as Tommy himself was a very clingy child no matter how he tried to deny it. 

When the two of them were walking through the woods a week later, Wilbur gathering wood and Tommy tagging along (the former refused to let the latter help too much with physical labor unless it really was necessary), the sound of a panicked scream rang through the forest. Wilbur cursed and nearly dropped his axe, while Tommy's eyes widened in horror. Wilbur shouted out in confusion as Tommy started to run toward the source of the noise, only getting a loud "It's Tubbo, Wil!" in return.

With no other option, Wilbur hastily shoved his chopped down wood into his inventory along with his axe, and ran after his brother.

Locating the source of the scream was an easy task, though no less bewildering than it had been to hear it. Tommy was bent down by a taped up cardboard box that seemed to be _shaking,_ much to Wilbur's confusion. The blonde was murmuring soft words hastily, attempting to open the box with fumbling fingers.

"Tommy- Toms, what's going on?"

"Wil! Wil, can you be a big man and help me get Tubbo out of the box?"

He didn't quite process his brother's words right away, but he found himself bending by the box and peeling away the tape with hands as gentle as he could make them. Why was he trembling? He wasn't even sure. He gaped at the sight that laid before them as he lifted up the flaps of the box.

A sobbing, shaking child who couldn't have been more than a year older than Tommy was, sat curled up in the box with wide eyes that were now full of fear and fixated on Wilbur's. His brown hair was matted and dirty, dirt smudged across his face and, to Wilbur's horror, a few cuts by his mouth and cheeks.

Wilbur wasn't sure what was weirder- that this Tubbo was an actual person, or that a beat up child had been sealed inside a _cardboard box_. 

On second thought, it was definitely the latter.

"Tubbo! Tubbo, what're you doing in the box?" Tommy frowned at his friend, staying bent down to his height. Wilbur quickly bent down as well. Tubbo seemed terrified of him, and so he wanted to lessen that fear as much as possible. He had no idea what to do in this situation, but he snapped himself out of his stupor. This child was very clearly panicking, breathing much too quick and trembling far too much.

"Was tryna get out," Tubbo mumbled in a shaky voice, looking over at Tommy instead of Wilbur. His voice, as soft as it was, seemed pretty high pitched. There was an exhaustion in his eyes that was far too heavy for someone so young.

"Hello, Tubbo," Wilbur greeted in a carefully calm voice, effectively gaining the boy's attention on him instead of Tommy. "I'm- I'm Tommy's brother, Wilbur." _God,_ did he want to draw Tubbo into a hug and assure him that everything would be okay. But he couldn't just do that. Gaining at least some of his trust would be necessary, especially with the fragile state he was visibly in.

Tubbo nodded slowly, a cautious motion. "..Tommy told me 'bout'chu, Wilby."

 _Wilby._ Wilbur didn't comment on the nickname, though it almost made him want to laugh. "Tubbo, d'you want us to help you out of that box?"

There would be time later to ask how exactly he'd gotten himself into it. The box didn't seem to be very sanitary or comfortable, though, and so removing Tubbo from it should be their first priority.

"...Yes, please."

Tubbo only flinched away from Wilbur's touch for a moment, soon relaxing into his arms as Wilbur helped him stand and get out of the box. Tommy watched with wide eyes, concern brimming in the bright blue. He was far too light, seeming very unsteady on his legs as he tentatively set them onto the grass.

"Say, Tubbo, do you wanna come stay with Tommy and I for a while?" Wilbur asked. He let the boy continue to hold onto his arm. He wasn't going to begrudge him of something that seemed to bring him comfort. There was no way that Wilbur was going to let Tubbo stay out there with his box, alone and defenseless against whatever mobs might come. Had someone abandoned the kid there? The horror Wilbur felt was strong. How long had it been since Tubbo had had a good meal?

Tubbo's eyes lit up at the prospect, and so did Tommy's. "Really?"

Wilbur nodded. "Of course. We've got a nice van, and you can stay as long as you'd like."

"We've also got _drugs,_ " Tommy added in a whisper that really wasn't all that quiet. "Drugs, Tubbo!"

Tubbo beamed, before uncertainty overtook his expression and he hesitated. But with a reassuring smile from Wilbur, and Tommy's joy that he wasn't doing a good job at containing, he nodded back. "If- if you're sure."

The sun was beginning to set, and so Wilbur and the two boys set off in a bit of a hurry. They wouldn't be able to defend themselves from the hostile mobs once night fell. When Tubbo began stumbling and did a poor job at hiding how his limbs felt too weak to walk on, Wilbur didn't hesitate to give him a piggy-back ride. (Naturally, Tommy complained that he wanted one too, but Wilbur hushed him.) He wasn't surprised, either, when Tubbo stopped replying to Tommy's endless chatter and fell asleep with his head falling onto Wilbur's shoulder.

When they reached their van, Tommy clambered inside, and Wilbur transferred Tubbo onto Tommy's makeshift bed as gently as he possibly could. Tubbo seemed to be quite deep into his slumber, as he didn't even stir.

"Can you go wet a towel, Toms?" asked Wilbur. Tommy nodded and saluted him, glad to have the task, and rushed off to grab a facecloth and dip it into one of their water buckets. He handed it to Wilbur, who thanked him quietly.

The guitarist set to the task of cleaning Tubbo's cuts- which weren't deep, thank goodness- and bandaging them. Tubbo didn't seem to have any other injuries, which was good. He'd definitely need a change of clothes at some point. He wiped away some of the dirt from the kid's face. Eventually, Tubbo stirred, eyes blinking open slowly and staring at Wilbur in groggy confusion.

"Hello, Tubbo, it's Wilbur again," Wilbur said softly. "Do you want to eat something?"

"Not hungry," the brown-haired boy mumbled, looking like he was close to drifting back into sleep. "'M tired, Wilby."

"I know," Wilbur replied. He felt a strange pang of _something,_ seeing the state that Tubbo was in. Sympathy? Pity? "You go back to sleep then, Tubbo, alright? But you're gonna have to eat something in the morning."

"M'kay," he mumbled, eyes closing almost immediately as his breaths steadied.

Tommy climbed into bed besides his _very real_ friend, muttering goodnight to Wilbur and falling asleep in a matter of seconds. Wilbur watched the two of them for a while longer, before sighing and going over to his own bed. It had been a long day.

You don't find a dirt-covered child in a box every day, after all.

Little did Wilbur know, this boy from the box would soon become just as much of a brother to him as Tommy was. He'd be with the two of them for a long, long time. Tubbo and Tommy's friendship would be unbreakable, united by discs and promises and days of laughter that never ended.

He closed his eyes. Sleep came easy for him, too.

Perhaps, some things are meant to be.


	2. Found Family And Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wilbur learns more about tubbo and his situation once he wakes up, and decides that this kid is going to be part of his family.
> 
> in the nearby village, they reunite with two familiar people- and meet one stranger.
> 
> (cws for this chapter: parental abuse mentioned)

"Tubbo?"

The sun was strong the next morning, rays beaming harsh and heavy through the tinted glass windows. Tubbo was now situated with a set of Tommy's clothes that the blonde had been more than happy to hand over. The shirt, white with a yellow collar and sleeves, was a little oversized, and the pants extended too far down. But Tubbo had been more than happy to be able to change out of his dirty, too-small attire, so Wilbur didn't think he minded all that much.

"Yeah?" He glanced up from the food that he was shoveling into his mouth. He sat on the floor, as Tommy and Wilbur didn't have room from a proper sort of table in their van, plate balanced on his lap. He seemed almost hunched over it, as if ready to protect himself from anyone who might try and take it from it.

The implications of the action didn't help the overwhelming storm of emotions that were barraging him. 

Tubbo had woken up while Wilbur had just started making their meal, and insisted on helping. He was much more skilled at cooking than Tommy was- in fact, the blonde typically did more of making some kind of mess than cooking. Tommy was currently outside, running around and around the van too see how long he could go until stopping.

It was a daily morning routine for him that Wilbur had long stopped questioning. 

"How exactly did you get trapped in that.. box?"

The panic that flashed over his expression was sudden, but prominent, and Wilbur held back the urge to wince as he hastily took it back. "Sorry, man, you don't have to answer that- didn't mean to pr-"

"S'okay," Tubbo interrupted him, taking another bite of food and swallowing it with a thoughtful expression before continuing. "Don't remember too much, honest. Dad- Dad sad he was tired of me, said he'd send me to the night-mobs so he don't have to see me again." His eyes held a broken sort of pain, and as he stabbed a plastic fork into his food, it was much more aggressive than last time.

Wilbur's eyes widened at the reply. What had he been expecting? He wasn't even sure. But to hear it, and from the victim of such a situation as well... It took a moment of carefully controlled breathing to stop the anger that was bubbling up. Anger at someone he'd never met and likely never would for doing something so cruel to someone like Tubbo. _Tubbo,_ of all people.

Prevent the anger from overflowing. Bury it down.

Such a person dared to call himself Tubbo's father?

He gritted his teeth, grip tightening around his glass of water. When he relaxed, it was a forced motion, and only due to the worried looks Tubbo was shooting in his direction.

Tubbo couldn't have possibly done something bad enough to warrant the fate his supposed father had readily subjected him to. His own father had been ready to let him _die_ to the hands of bloodthirsty mobs, a child sacrificed to monsters that didn't know any better.

If he were honest, Wilbur hadn't even considered where Tubbo's parents might be when he'd found him. The thought hadn't occurred to him until Tubbo had joined him in making breakfast. It was almost worrying how easy it had been to get Tubbo to come to the van, though he supposed Tommy's presence had been helpful in the matter. (But still- really? Weren't vans supposed to be associated with the sketchiest of creepy men? Especially when Tommy had brought up the drugs- which were, admittedly, potions-)

Either way, he was glad that it had been them to find Tubbo before anyone- or anything- else could. He suppressed a shudder at the memory of Tubbo's panic-ridden scream.

"Your dad sounds like an asshole," Wilbur commented plainly, not really knowing what else he should say. _Could_ say, even. Did Tubbo need or want comfort?

"He's not real nice," Tubbo eventually agreed, glancing over at Wilbur with a question dancing in his eyes. "You- you're not gonna send me back, right?" The pure fear made his voice break, taking Wilbur's heart with it.

"No, bud, 'course not." Wilbur was quick to reassure him, calm smile gracing his features. He watched the boy's shoulders relax, tension drained in an instant like a lifted weight of bricks. "You can stay with me and Tommy. I won't be sending you to that piece of shit- you'll never have to go through that again." He was glad to see Tubbo smile, as tentative as it was.

(He was also glad that the kid seemed fine with his swearing. If he hadn't been, that could've been a bit of a struggle, especially with Tommy's language getting worse and worse with every passing day.)

"I like being with you and Tommy."

Yeah, Wilbur was going to adopt this kid into their wretched little family. 

There was more than enough room in his life and his heart for another brother, right? Plus, it'd be nice to have someone actually capable of helping him cook.

Mentioned blonde pulled open the door to the van at that very moment, tumbling in with a bright grin on his face. "Big Man Tommy has returned, motherfuckers!" he announced in a voice that was unnecessarily loud. Wilbur sighed, small amused smile coming to his face, while Tubbo giggled.

Tommy was drenched in his own sweat, clothes sticking to his skin. His hair looked disgusting, quite frankly, a contrast to Wilbur's curly hair that he kept as neat and perfect as possible. Wilbur wrinkled his nose at him, only getting flipped off in return.

Tommy's eyes lit up at the sight of the food on the table. "Food! Heck yeah, I'm starving!" He took a plentiful helping for himself and dug in.

"We'll be going into the nearby village later on today," Wilbur informed the the two boys, cleaning up after himself when he was done eating. "I've got word from an old friend recently that she lives there, and both of you could do with a proper shower." Tommy's resulting laugh was boisterous, Tubbo's more sheepish.

Wilbur watched Tubbo's reaction carefully. If the boy showed any discomfort at the prospect of having to interact with strangers, Wilbur would be able to put off the visit. But if anything, he looked excited, even more so as Tommy began to badger Wilbur about who exactly this 'she' would be. Satisfied, Wilbur turned to Tommy and deflected all of his pestering with vague replies that only irritated his brother more.

Tommy could deal with waiting. It was always hilarious to see him get so frustrated by the withheld information.

Later on in the day, when noon had passed and clouds were drifting over the sun, Wilbur drove the van right to the edge of the village. He was grateful for Tubbo being there to distract Tommy during the ride, as Tommy's constant pestering was usually detrimental to his concentration. Wilbur was a very responsible driver, yes, but Tommy's loud voice and worrying tendencies often made him less so.

He could hear the two of them deep into a conversation about women and the benefits of cobblestone blocks. He decided not to pry.

They walked into the village, Wilbur taking one of each of their hands and holding it in his while they walked by the various houses and buildings. He had his guitar on his back, a few food items and his axe with him in his inventory. This village was a peaceful one- there was no need to worry about the possibility of getting attacked. He ignored any people that called out to them, wishing to trade or get them to buy from their shops.

Wilbur almost snorted. As if he had any money, or anything of value.

When they came to their destination, they found three people waiting outside for them. Two were familiar, the third not so much.

"Wil!"

With a laugh, beaming in excitement, a blonde girl, a year younger than him, ran over and threw herself into his arms. He laughed and returned the embrace.

"You're getting shorter, Niki," he teased. "I swear, you weren't this much shorter last time we talked!"

"You're just getting taller," she replied, amusement and joy lighting up every inch of her face. He stepped away from the embrace, taking a moment to get a good look at her. She'd changed since the last time they'd seen each other- understandable, as it had been a while. She looked... happier. She wore a colorful striped sweater and jeans that had rips at the knees and below. Her clothes were splattered in stains of dried paint, accompanied by a few colorful smudges across her face as well.

"Hey, hey, Wil, I want a hug, too."

Wilbur looked over to meet the eyes of his second old friend, a grin spreading across her face. He held out his arms, quirking an eyebrow, and she laughed as she took the invitation and hugged him. "Your hair's getting in my face, Sal," he whispered to her.

"Good," she replied, grin melting into her tone.

Sally had always been beautiful. Wilbur stepped away from the hug only when she let go first. Her vibrant r ed hair was longer than he remembered, falling to her mid-back. Two thin braided strands framed her face, ribbons entwined into them and tied together neatly at the bottom. Her ears had that strange elven point to them, reminiscent of the elves that Wilbur and Techno had read about in story books as a child. Her eyes were a shining teal, full of a mischief that threatened to draw him in and suffocate him in their allure.

Sally was Niki's cousin, a year older than him and two years older than her.

She smiled at him, the twinkle in her eyes ever prominent. "Glad to see you're still alive! Couldn't remember to write, hm?"

He felt a pang of guilt, his laugh sheepish. "Sorry, sorry! It was a bit hard to, with the whole running away from home thing."

Niki shook her head in both amusement and exasperation. "God, Wil, I can't believe you actually left."

"Hello, Niki!" Tommy greeted, launching himself into Niki's waiting arms for a hug. "Tubbo, this is my woman friend Niki! Niki, this is Tubbo! We found him in a box and Wilbur kidnapped him." Niki laughed, somewhat nervously, glancing between Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo with clear confusion.

"Not kidnapped, T," Tubbo argued, poking Tommy. He smiled politely at Niki. "Hullo, Niki, 'm Tubbo."

"Look at you, Wil," Sally snickered. "Kidnapping kids, eh? I never thought you were _that_ type of man. Disgusting, really."

He rolled his eyes. "Alright, Sal." He looked over at the kid who was awkwardly standing by Sally, hands in his pockets and eyes trained on the ground. He was tall, especially for the age that was apparent by his face. If Wilbur were to guess, he'd say that he was around Tubbo and Tommy's age. "Hey, are you Ranboo?"

If he remembered correctly, Niki had mentioned a 'Ranboo' in her letters once or twice. Some previously homeless kid that now lived with her and Sally, that Niki referred to as a sibling. He glanced up at Wilbur, though not quite meeting his eyes, and mumbled a quick, nervous, "Uh- yeah!"

"I'm Wilbur, Wilbur Soot. Nice meeting you."

"...You too."

The poor kid seemed like he wasn't too much of a fan of social interaction. Sucks to be him, because both Tommy and Tubbo suddenly came up to him and starting bombarding him with questions and chatter. Ranboo seemed startled, but slowly replied to them.

The other three watched them all in amusement before turning to each other. "You guys look awful," Sally commented bluntly. "C'mon, let's get you inside." She led the way into the house. Wilbur motioned for the chattering children to follow, and he and Niki brought up the rear.

"...She's not wrong," Niki said quietly. "You guys definitely need to take a shower."

"Rude," Wilbur snickered. "It's the 'essence of the wild', Niki, you'll have to get used to it."

She laughed. "It's- it's certainly quite an _essence,_ I'll give you that."

They stepped in the cozy house. Tubbo paused his chatter for only a moment, but Tommy continued pestering Ranboo.

"So! Ranboo! What's it like to live with _two_ _women_?"

Wilbur sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI POGCHAMPS !!! <333
> 
> anywayyyy niki ranboo sibling pog wooo- and cousin sally pog hehe


	3. Friends Might Stay Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when vibe ??
> 
> (no cws. just fluff/chaos)
> 
> age reminder:  
> tommy: nine  
> tubbo: ten  
> ranboo: ten  
> wilbur: seventeen  
> sally: eighteen  
> niki: sixteen

Tommy grinned, a laugh tearing from his throat as he ran from Tubbo's reaching hands. He ducked away from the shorter male, sticking his tongue out mockingly at his frustration. He watched as Tubbo made a sharp turn and ran in a fleeing Ranboo's direction, locked onto his new target. Tommy took the moment of peace to catch his breath, running a and through sweat-ridden hair. It was a habit he'd picked up from Wilbur over time.

As suggested by the owners of the house that they'd crashed, Tommy, Wilbur, and Tubbo had all taken showers. Barely ten minutes after Niki had been drying off Tubbo's soaked hair with a towel, the three kids had run outside again to play a game of tag and inevitably get dirty again. Niki had helped take in the set of Tommy's clothes that Tubbo was wearing so they would fit him better, as well as giving him some of Ranboo's older stuff that no longer fit him.

It was nice to be able to distinguish all of Tubbo's face from his mess of curly hair. And Tommy would be lying if he said that the watermelon scent of the body wash he'd borrowed wasn't pleasant.

When the game of tag tired them out, and Tommy's sweating level was satisfying once more, they collapsed by a clump of trees and spoke amongst each other.

"You're only fast 'cause you're tall, Ranboo," Tommy grumbled, flopping back onto the grass and staring up at the clouds scattered over the sky.

Tubbo giggled, laying down beside him. "You'll be tall, too, Toms," he hummed. "Like Wilby is. 'N you're more tall than me."

Tommy snickered at the use of the nickname. "Wilby," he echoed. "Wil'd make fun of me if I called him that."

Ranboo lowered himself to the ground next to them, having difficulty with not looking awkward. It was surprisingly easy to break Ranboo out of his shell. It had only taken a few strange jokes and a game of tag. Tommy and Tubbo both found themselves enjoying his company. "That cloud looks like, uh, Wilbur's guitar, I think." He pointed up to a cloud. 

"No, it looks like a dog, 'most," countered Tubbo. He seemed very at ease despite every detail of his strange situation. Everyone that he was with, except for potentially Tommy if you counted the short time they'd known each other beforehand, was close to a stranger. Tommy decided to not think too much about it, and that Tubbo must just be an odd, clingy idiot.

"What kind of dog?" Ranboo asked, tilting his head to look at Tubbo.

"...Mm, pug."

Tommy snorted. "Y'know, Tubbo, you say that really weird. Like- like _pog,_ that's what you sound like."

Tubbo just yawned. Had Wilbur been there, he probably would've said Tubbo's brain was going at -10 miles per hour. "Did'ya know that a prison can have a penis?"

As Tommy spluttered in a mixture of laughter and pure confusion, Ranboo stifled laughter of his own and brought up a suggestion. "Hey, we should make 'pog' a word."

"Mhm, our special word," Tubbo agreed. "We can keep it secret."

"Nah, we can't keep it secret," argued Tommy. "It'll never get in the national dictionary if we don't spread it 'round, boys!" He clapped his hands together. "We need the most _pog_ posters and propaganda!"

Ranboo looked over, brown furrowed in bewilderment. "Isn't that a communist thing?"

"Tommyyyyy," came Tubbo's voice, drawn out and slightly slurred by exhaustion. "Are you a communist?"

"What the fuck?" he barked. "I- no, I don't think so? Are you?"

"Probably."

They continued on, conversation topic constantly drifting toward whatever their minds saw as fit. It never got any less random. Tubbo never ended up falling asleep, though he constantly seemed like he might. Ranboo pointed out a few more clouds, claiming they looked like various animals, only to be refuted by Tommy's stubborn disagreement. Tubbo would then say it looked like something entirely different, and faced his own share of Tommy's insistent yelling. 

Wilbur, Niki, and Sally would occasionally look over at them from their spot by the window. Wilbur was facing the endless questions of the two girls, doing his best to steer clear of the less pleasant answers and keep everything lighthearted. Sally went along with it easily, humoring his vagueness and joking around in a similar manner. Niki, however, was taking none of his shit. She did nothing to mask her concern, prying into the details he didn't want to give.

"Niki," he sighed. "Tommy and I are _fine_."

"Clearly not, considering you _ran away from home,_ Wil," she replied, voice soft and yet sounding broken by worry. "The fact that you two are still alive... It might be a miracle. You guys can stay with us for however long you need to. We have more than enough room, and you could help me and Sally out at the bakery, and- and, I'm sure the boys would be really happy if you did."

Sally elbowed Wilbur and grinned. "Hell yeah, you should stay!"

Wilbur narrowed his eyes, watching the two of them cautiously. "...You're not going to contact _Phil,_ are you?"

He wasn't sure if the expression that crossed their faces was one of hurt, exasperation, or something else, but it was enough to assuage the majority of his worries. "No, Wil, of course not." Niki's voice was gentler now, though no less wavering and unsteady than before.

"We're not stupid," Sally added, grin faltering for less than a moment before it came back. 

Wilbur bit the inside of his cheek, frowning. The two girls exchanged a glance before he spoke. "...I don't know if we'll stay for long. Tommy and I- and Tubbo, now- we have places to go to."

"That's fine." Niki shrugged. "But you should stay for a little while. Make your lives a bit more stable before you go on with... whatever you're doing."

"Selling drugs," supplied Sally helpfully.

Niki giggled. "Yes, your drug business."

Wilbur cracked a smile. "If you really don't mind having us, then I might take you up on your offer."

Sally's smile was bright; Niki's was even more so. "Of course we don't mind," laughed the red-haired girl, beaming at him. "We offered, silly."

"You can work with me in the bakery!" Niki suggested. "You're not that bad at baking, so I'm sure you'd be great! Or, if you're having one of your clumsy days, you can play guitar for any customers that come in."

"Tubbo might be a better fit for that than I am," Wilbur chuckled. "The kid's great at cooking from what I've seen."

"Better than Tommy?"

Wilbur glanced at Sally. "Of course. Who isn't?"

Sally laughed while Niki shook her head at him, amusement and exasperation both very clear. "You're so mean to him."

"Not my fault that the child can't be trusted at a stove." Wilbur leaned back in his seat, holding his hands up in surrender and snickering with Sally at the expression that came across Niki's face. "Hey, Niki, you should try and teach him to cook while we're here."

"Maybe I will," she replied, sounding like she was seriously considering it. Wilbur immediately went back on his word, attempting to convince her that it was a bad idea, but the blonde was adamant. Sally occasionally added in quips of her own, switching between which of the two she was directing it at.

A few minutes later, the door was aggressively pulled open and squeaked loudly as Tommy stepped into the room. He was followed by a Tubbo that looked like he could barely stand, and a Ranboo that said Tubbo was using as physical support.

"Good evening, my pog pals!" Tommy greeted in a boisterous tone, grin spreading across his face as he waved at the teenagers.

Niki gave a half confused, half amused smile, and a wave in return. Sally grinned, shooting him some finger guns, while Wilbur gave his brother the most blank stare that one could imagine. "Toms, what're you going on about _now_?"

"'s a new word," Tubbo spoke up. "Ranboooo, can I go on your back?" Ranboo bent down to the ground as a reply, letting Tubbo climb onto his back and wrap his arms around the taller boy's shoulders. The brown haired boy had a content smile, head resting on Ranboo's shoulder.

"It means cool," Ranboo added, standing slightly hunched from the weight of Tubbo sitting on his back. "We're gonna, uh, get it in the dictionary. Yeah."

Wilbur raised an eyebrow. "Pog? That's a shit word. Did Tommy come up with it?"

Tommy puffed out his chest, defensive glare aimed at Wilbur. "If anything's shit, it's- it's _you!_ Besides, I didn't really come up with it. Was more due to Tubbo's shit word skills." He jabbed his thumb at the shorter boy.

"Shit," Tubbo murmured in agreement. His eyes were closed, but he was very clearly awake. "Shit pog?"

"Sure. Shit pog." Ranboo glanced at him best as he could from their current positions. "Tubbo, err, do you want me to put you down on the couch?"

Tubbo shook his head. "No." He didn't elaborate, so Ranboo eventually just gave a short hum of acknowledgement.

"Tommy." Mentioned blonde glanced over at Wilbur, waiting for him to continue. "Are you fine if we stay at Niki's for a little while? I know you like when we travel, and our drug business might have to be put on hold for a while, but I think-"

"Fuck yeah!" he cheered. "Of course, Wil. Does this mean I'll have even more time around Big Man Ranboo?"

Wilbur blinked for a moment, evidently at a lost for words as he'd been expecting at least some kind of complaint or flat-out refusal. But he let himself slowly smile as he replied. "Sure. Would that be- would that be pog enough for you?"

Tommy snickered at him. "God, it sounds so weird coming out of your mouth. You're hereby banned from saying pog, bitch boy."

"Bitch boy," Sally repeated. "Wow. What kind of language are you _teaching_ this kid, Wil? How inappropriate. Aren't you supposed to be a good role model so he doesn't turn out shitty?" He rolled his eyes, shoving her lightly. 

That evening, Wilbur played guitar for all of them. Tubbo finally fell asleep, lulled by the gentle strumming and soft singing, though he never let go of Ranboo's arm as he slumped back against the couch and his eyes fell shut. Tommy tried to sing along with him, but he didn't know many of the lyrics very well. On all songs except for the ones Wilbur proclaimed as "Your New Boyfriend" and "Jubilee Line", Tommy stumbled through words that he didn't know. Sally made fun of him. Niki praised all of the songs, giving suggestions when Wilbur asked for them.

It was happy. It was nice. The six of them would stay together, happy like that, for at least a month more. Staying for a short time turned into staying for a time much longer than Wilbur had pictured, but he didn't mind, and Niki definitely didn't either.

It would be a blonde haired teenager and his group of friends, running rampant through the surrounding woods, that would take away everything.

A masked boy snatched the circular sunglasses of one of his best friends, laughing at the annoyed expression across his face. He was a boy with far too much power for someone like him- and power corrupts, doesn't it?

If only the corruption wouldn't affect everyone around him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEN VIBE !!

**Author's Note:**

> enjoying so far? :D i hope i'm doing well! comments and kudos are much appreciated


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